


Happy Holigays

by skele_smol



Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Gay around the holidays, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violentine, Violentine Fluff, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21958372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skele_smol/pseuds/skele_smol
Summary: Violet can't bake Christmas cookies.Just a quick little bit of cute fluff for the holidays. One-shot
Relationships: Clementine/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 60





	Happy Holigays

**Author's Note:**

> Just a small bit of Christmasgay cheer.
> 
> Merry Christmas everyone

**Happy Holigays.**

  
  


“Shit!” There’s a clatter of metal being dropped followed quickly by a faucet being yanked on full. “Oh, god damnit!”

Clementine winces at the sharp curse drifting from the small -and alarmingly smokey- kitchen. Lifting herself from the squashy loveseat with a sigh, the brunette pads quietly through the living room and leans herself against the kitchen door frame. Her hip cocks as she leans and her arms come up to fold loosely over her chest as Clementine watches in amusement at the scene of chaos unfolds before her.

There’s a pile of cookies -well, more like charcoal pucks actually- dumped carelessly upon the counter top, and a bowl of raw dough standing beside it. Eggs and butter, sugar and flour stand vigil over the burned treats, the tops of their paper packaging bowed over as though paying their respects. A wry little smile tilts Clementine’s mouth briefly, before her eyes shift and she scans the scene further. Beads of beaten of egg drips slowly from the abandoned whisk, collecting and soaking into little clumps at the edge of a flour spill.

She sighs softly through her nose, this kitchen is going to be a bitch to clean later. With Christmas less than three hours away, and visits from friends and family in less than twelve -Louis had been warned, severely, that if he showed his face before nine in the morning like he did last year, Violet would break it- she was kinda hoping that she and her girlfriend could turn in early and indulge in a little holiday ‘festivities’ before the big day. However, judging by the way that Violet furiously and violently scrubs the worst of the burned on dough off of the still hot cookie sheet, grumbling and cursing quietly under her breath as she does, that plan might be scuppered.

Suddenly, the blonde slaps off the streaming water and flicks the droplets from her fingers. Snatching up the dish towel crumpled on next to the sink, Violet swipes her hands on the towel and pivots around, her eyes snapping open and face slack in her surprise. “Holy shit, Clem! I swear to god, I’m gonna start tying a bell around your neck if you don’t stop creeping on me.”

Clementine quirks a brow coyly, her lips twisting up into a suggestive grin as she pushes off of the door jamb and prowls toward the grouchy girl. “Promise?”

The blush claims Violet’s ears first, scorching them red as fingers of colour and heat stroke a path downwards all the way to her chest. She mutters quietly under her breath as Clementine’s arms come up to wrap around her narrow waist, soft hands slipping beneath the oversized Christmas sweater hanging comfortably from Violet’s small frame to hook her fingers through the belt loops on well worn jeans. Honey gold eyes sweep the warzone that is their kitchen and settles upon dead cookie mountain once more before she sighs softly.

“You don’t have to do all of this, know.” Clementine murmurs quietly as she hides a tiny kiss amid the strands of buttery blonde, pulling back slightly and frowning in puzzlement when her chin comes away sticky with cookie dough. “AJ will be the only one asking for cookies after the dinner you’re making. And he can make do with whatever we have in the cupboard.”

“I know.” Violet’s voice comes soft and small. Her fingers fiddling with the bottom of her sweater and eyes fixed firmly on the rainbow letters twisted in fairy lights that declare ‘Happy Holigays’ over her chest. “But, I wasn’t trying to bake cookies just for him.” She sighs and moves her hand to her hair, frowning as she finds the clump of raw dough that had brushed Clementine’s chin matting the ashen strands.

She focuses for a few moments, carefully teasing the glob free, twisting in Clementine’s arms to flick it into the sink before continuing. “My Grandma always baked the best cookies for Christmas. When she died, mom gave me her recipe cards and I-” Eyes of dilute green peer up shyly from beneath her lashes. “I wanted to bake them and share them with you. You would have liked my Grandma, and I know she would have loved you.” The softness and vulnerability in Violet’s face suddenly pinches, her features hardening, and her lips tighten into a thin line. “But, apparently the baking genes in my family skipped a generation because I can’t bake for shit!”

For a moment, Clementine is silent. Her eyes moving across the dirty counters until she spots a recipe card propped against the coffee pot, and for a moment her lips press together thoughtfully until an idea forms in her mind. “That’s your Grandma’s recipe, right?” 

Violet nods slowly, sightly confused with where this conversation was headed.

Clementine smiles softly, dropping a kiss to the blonde’s nose. “Then I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do, Vi.” Chuckling lightly when she pulls back and watches Violet as she wrinkles her kissed nose. “You’re gonna go shower, and I’ll clean up in here. I’ll even try my hand at baking your Grandma’s cookies. I’m not the best baker but, and please don’t be upset, I’m a damned better baker than you.”

For a second, Violet is silent, her expression closed and unreadable and Clementine is a little concerned that she had hurt the sensitive blonde’s feelings. But then, to her relief, a small smile pulls its way onto the blondes lips. “Okay, Clem. That actually sounds a really good idea.”

Relieved, the brunette leans forward and presses a quick kiss to the corner of her lover’s mouth before she turns the older girl around and shoos her from the room. “Okay then. You go shower your sticky ass, and when you come back I will have a clean kitchen, warm cookies and hot chocolate waiting for you.”

True to her word, when Violet returns half an hour later, clad in loose pajamas and bare feet, she finds a clean kitchen and a plate of still warm, if slightly dark, cookies waiting. Clementine has her back to her as she fusses with a pan of warm milk simmering on the stove and Violet just can’t seem to prevent the wicked idea from forming in her mind. She pads closer, footsteps slow and steady, deliberate and precise as she creeps closer. Her hands coming up ready to tickle Clementine’s sides when she’s close enough.

“Don’t you dare, Violet. I will end you.”

With a long drawn out groan, Violet folds her arms over her chest and pouts. “How the hell do you do that every time?”

Turning around, Clementine grins and pushes a warm mug of thick hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and marshmallows into the blonde’s hands and picks up the plate of cookies with her other. “Gaydar.” She purrs, ushering the blonde into the living room and settling beside her on the loveseat. “It’s especially strong when I’m filled with holigay queer.”


End file.
